If Only
by Moon Fever
Summary: Remus Lupin is reminiscing about his personal life, kept private and safe from the rest of the Hogwarts world, until a tragedy strikes sending Remus into emotional overdrive. This is written in the mind’s eye of Remus. *Chapter 2 up*
1. Chapter 1 - Companionship

Disclaimer: I don't own Remus Lupin, or Severus Snape. Nor do I own 'she' - I couldn't figure out a name for 'she' so you can just leave your imagination wander. For all it could be, you can pretend she is you. If you happen to like Lupin! I also have no association with JK Rowling or Warner Bros.

Authors note: This story is set in the Prisoner of Azkaban. Somewhere in the middle of the year. This is actually the first time I've written a story in the first person rather then in the 'Gods eye view'. Please tell me what you think. I normally don't write serious stories and this my second Harry Potter fan fiction. This is probably complete.

Summary: Remus Lupin is reminiscing about his personal life, kept private and safe from the rest of the Hogwarts world, until a tragedy strikes sending Remus into emotional overdrive. This is written in the mind's eye of Remus and is probably too melodramatic.

The scent of her lingered, through the tips of my fingers to the hems of my robes. The presence of her was accounted for as I sat, marking incessantly. My quill never stopping quivering as I added comments and praise to the handiwork of my students. Yes, the Grindylow is indeed related to the monkey, and has been considered the monkey of the sea. No, Hinky Punks do not target their prey by severing the heads off turnips and throwing them towards a distance. There was little to be said about how I felt, except drawn and weary. A man drained of vitality through the burden of the moon. I often wished, while in my bed exploring my mind, that my life would return to the state it was when I had three close friends. I'm eager to retain my youth, I couldn't care less about my appearance but to have companions indicates a great deal. For now all of this disorder has consumed me to no end.

As I marked the last of the work, my mind drifts momentarily to Sirius Black. I have indeed condemned him in my conscience. Vowing that whatever story he may intend to tell would be dismissed, it was he who sought the solace of the dark lord. To promote his power and title. In all of my wildest dreams, I would never have considered one of my closest friends would succumb to the empty promises of Voldemort. Even now, thirteen years on I feel violated, stripped of a trust. I was certain that Sirius may have informed Voldemort about me, provoking him to exterminate me like a vermin. The thoughts of this has consumed me, leaving me withered and hollow. The demons of my soul screaming out for care. Only she provided temporary solace, through permanent trust still sufficient of my heart. Though her eloquence wasn't quite what it used to be. 

I placed my quill gingerly onto the scarred desk, gouged and burnt from candles and sat back reclining in my chair. I suppose it is time I go to sleep, my eyes were always indicative of my tiredness, their paleness is only magnified by darkness of the rings around eyes, sagging and ugly. If only sleep came naturally to me. Severus has just knocked on my door, I fix a pleasant smile on my face. I'm grateful he has concocted the potion but resentful he must remind me of my...disorder... 

Severus hassles me every time he brings in the wolfsbane, smiling sneeringly at the sight of me. Although tonight he looks somewhat placid and tired. He even manages a smile without sarcasm as I speak idly to him, his eyes lack their usual sharpness and his voice is softer. When he hands me the goblet, his hand brushes mine gently. Something comes over his face, but in an instant it disappears. He bids me farewell and strides out, his cloak flying behind. Something odd has come over him as I feel his hand touched me a little too long for comfort. I distracted my mind with the imaging of my partner, left alone and forlorn in the countryside as she awaits for me. 

She'd left me a handkerchief, a small fragile embroidered piece of fabric which in every respect reminds me of her. As I handle it in the pocket of my robes, I wished I was back by her side. Living day by day on her wage was stressful, she was once a picture of elegance, primed and ready to become an auror. Her downfall came when she'd met me, grieving over the death of my father as I walked with no where to go in sorrow. We feel into an emotion called love. As she lost more and more of her energy to comfort me and my demons, she gave up any hope of fighting evil. Instead she became a shop assistant, selling bottles of butter beer and other consumables back in our home village. Being type of woman she was, she never complained. 

She used to take me to dances held at her parent's manor. But once she informed them about me being a werewolf she wished to marry, they stripped her of all she grew up with. Gone were the days where I would whirl her around, her face flushed with happiness. The dark hair of hers would fly as we spun around, lost in the music. Her robes would billow out, as I drew her out and she would whimper slightly as I pulled and tucked her towards my body. Her parents watching with apprehension yet joy, as we danced. All of that is gone now, replaced by poverty. The time I'm away from her would release her burden, to possibly allow her a little financial comfort she was used to. 

My head is strained, I feel a surge of guilt about being a werewolf. I have led people to doing the most ludicrous things due to the monstrosity. My wife has sacrificed her comfortable life to one resembling poverty while I've led my friends in becoming illegal Animagus. My parents died young due to the stress of worry for me. It's a shame, I never meant for it happen. I sip the foul tasting potion, aware of it's purpose as I cringe inwardly, staring sorrowful at the goblet. It glinted in the light, looking menacing almost mocking me. As I sit on my comfortable bed I draw the blinds around, shielding me from the moon that gleamed, a sliver of black preventing my transformation. 

After removing my robe and draping it on the end of my bed I sink myself into the plush mattress. I settle underneath the warm covers and turn my back to the window. I've had enough, nothing is out of the question when I feel all is lost. Suddenly, I turn around rustling the duvet. I hear the door quietly click closed as I wonder who may have entered. My brain races, never have I been interrupted before in my own dormitory, never without a warning such as a knock or an impatient call of my name. Dumbledore would often come and check on me when I was a wolf, when I'd taken my wolfs bane and he would smile. A glistening of joy enlightened his eyes when he'd see me. Curled up underneath my desk, watching him with yellow eyes as he'd approached. 

Out of instinct, I would wag my tail, resembling an overgrown dog. He would stride slowly over and pat my head. Whilst in the morning he would murmur to me as we passed in the hall, that I was a handsome wolf. As I heard footsteps approaching my bed, I covered my half naked body with the duvet, sitting up in surprise I hear what could undeniably be Severus' soft walk, he pauses outside the security of the drapes around my bed and his silhouette could be seen reflected by the moon light. For at least 30 minutes he stands waiting whilst I do the same, puzzled and curious. Without an indication he threw back the drapes, looking slightly menacing and ill mannered, as he stared down at me huddled in my meagre duvet he suddenly broke into solemn grin. His face seemed to crack, and his eyes showed it was in fact genuine. He gruffly coughed, his eyes shifting uncomfortably, looking everywhere but me.

"Remus...your wife..." he begun, his hands wavering slightly.

I stare looking bewildered and concerned. Nobody has ever mentioned my wife to me at Hogwarts. The personal lives of the teachers were kept apart and secret from the students and at times the teachers. I don't remember informing Severus of my wife at any point.

"Your wife has died..." His head drooped slowly, though through his eyes I saw that same odd expression that passed through his face beforehand as he passed me the wolfs bane. I feel a surge of bile rise up my throat as my emotions boiled. I felt physically sick. How could my wife be dead? The last time I saw her she was looking healthier then ever. I remember her smiling and wavering, her cheeks snaked with tears as the carriage drew me slowly away from her familiar self. She was getting plump, despite how little food she was eating and their was a certain aura about her that made her exert amounts of positive energy. I couldn't believe it, though my eyes were stinging I could feel the formation of tears just as Severus gazed at me, his face a mixture of anxiety and concern. I could suddenly smell her again, her flowery scent mixed with the soft mellowness of butter beer along with a tinge of sweat. A perfected potion of scent, so friendly and welcoming lingered. I didn't know whether Severus could smell it but I certainly could, it's intensity making my head light. Glancing at Severus' eyes, something in me awakened as I retched, expelling tonight's dinner onto my duvet and crying controllably. I must have been a sorry sight, weeping miserably and ruthlessly. 

"How..." I ask, wringing my pale hands and pushing the soiled blankets away. Severus appeared blurred and misty through my tear filled eyes.

"giving birth" he answered roughly, a barely audible crack in his voice.

A fresh surge of tears emptied out of me...that must have been why, why she looked so delightfully delicious that day I left. Her stomach may have been empty, but a new life force was growing. Spreading the positive energy to it's surroundings. I shamefully wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, suddenly aware of my nakedness as Severus brushed his eyes along the deep scars and scratches I'd obtained. Without warning he gripped my hand, it's warm pressure reassuring and calm. I looked though my stinging eyes and saw him looking drawn and tired. He opened his mouth to say more, but then turned away. Refusing to look at my expression. He then turned back to face me and I saw his eyes blink furiously, as if restraining tears.

"Remus, your wife died giving birth to your son. He is currently residing at your parents in laws manor" he said this all too calmly, in a way Albus would be capable of. He continued, the lines on his face becoming more distinguishable. 

"Albus will come you soon but he felt that the matter must be informed to you immediately...I'm sorry" My heart broke, Severus must have had more human amotion then I thought to provide solace and comfort. The tears still streamed, and anger ran through my veins. For my wife, if only she'd told me...maybe I might have been able to help and she would never have died but I understood how her mind worked. She must have merely thought that if she'd told me I would have stayed to care for her and our child. She never knew she would die giving birth, maybe she hoped it a surprise, a lethal surprise as it shows now. Nothing but pure raw emotion filled me now as I stilled cried looking ridiculous, Snape's hand clutching onto mine. He sat down next to me, pushing aside the vomit strewn duvet and I leaned towards his weight, my thin frame shivering and heaving silently. Before I knew it he gave me a brotherly hug. As awkward as it may have been, it was none the less comfortable. Severus seemed my only companion now. 

If only she told me

If only I knew

If only


	2. Chapter 2 - Remembering

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone. What would I do if I owned Remus?! Not much, I'll send him to the Red Cross. By the way, 'she' from the last story remains un-named. Let your imagination fly! C'mon...you know you want it.

Authors Notes: Slight rating change. Oh gosh, I've never ever written anything verging on sex, I hope it's ok. Please tell me if it's bad or good. Thanks for everyone reviewing! That's all.

Sex, the sheer heat, the intensity and pure intimacy. How I longed again for her touch, though I knew subconsciously, that it was virtually impossible. She was dead, stone cold and immobile till the end of time. But in the lonely hours where Severus is teaching and Albus is occupying Cornelius Fudge on another expedition, I let my mind wander and caress the fading memories of her. I'm lying in my bed, letting the grief flow over the contours over my body as I sniffle and sigh, trying to imprint permanently into my mind what she looked like, what she smelt like that last night we made love.

I remember her smiling nervously at me, her night dress hanging like a potato sack over the frailness of her body. She was sitting on the edge of our bed, brushing out the tangles of her long hair before she settled down for sleep. I remember her expression as I entered the threshold, tying the towel tightly around my waist. I smiled at her as she bit her lip, seeming to stare at the towel. When I approached her she suddenly snapped out of her trance. Her eyes fleeting over my own. Her face plastered with a coy smile. In one quick action she slipped her legs underneath the duvet and flipped over, showing her back to me as she reached for a dog eared book she always read before going to bed. I gave a small laugh at her as she placed it gingerly on her knees and started murmuring the words out.

"You know, I bet you've read enough of that book to have memorised it" I comment as settled myself beside her, she gave a derisive smile and pushed her reading glasses up.

"Hush, darling. I'm reading!" she whispered, slouching down on her back. 

I rarely ever saw her without a presence of a book, whether it be a children's or a text book. She'd always have one tucked underneath the hollow curve of her arm. That was the essence of her, a true Ravenclaw. Full of wit and yearning to learn.

"Remus, close the door and turn out the light" She murmured quietly as I obediently slid across the room, turning the light off at her command and pulling the door into place. Guided by the lamp beside her side I stepped towards the bed. I let the towel fall, and with a glimmer of joy I saw her glance sideways, her lips baring a small curve. I slip into bed naked and take my share of the thread thin cotton sheets, wrapping them upon my body. I gaze at my wife as she continues reading, although she still wore a amused sort of smile. Laying my head on the pillow, I turn my head, just to watch her as she flipped page over page. Her mouth still moving in time to the words. Something deep in me was so engrossed with her tonight, something instinctively pure and harmless.

Just watching her doing something as placid as reading was enough to make my hands twitch in desire to caress and squeeze the contours of her body. Closing my eyes, I felt a sudden impulse to seize her frail body and throw her on her back. In my mind I could see myself, crouched over her, naked as the day we were born. Ready to have sex with her like a true animal. I visualised myself biting the nape of her neck, gripping her shoulders as I gave it to her loud and relentlessly. 

Thrusting my hips against her as I pounded her violently, nuzzling my head against her veil of hair. But in reality I would give her the most tender touch I could muster, full of care and compassion. I wouldn't forgive myself if I'd ever hurt her, physically nor emotionally. But there she was, ready for me to take, to mark my territory. It was simply irresistible as she read her book, occasionally her eyes would mischievously gaze into mine and she'll bite her bottom lip, leaving a lingering expression of lust. After an hour of me staring, hoping she'll get the message, she snapped shut her book 'The Holy Bible' and set it on the bedside table before turning off the lamp beside her bed. 

I felt her shuffle down the bed, her arms automatically reached for my shoulders before she fell asleep. I was of course, a little distraught. Who was I to deny the moon's call? A gave a glance at the pearly orb through the window and saw a perfect half moon.

"Honey..." I murmured pulling her towards my body, in the blue light she opened her eyes, full of curiosity and brimming with mischief. She obviously knew what I wanted. 

"Hmm?" she answered, trying to look non-chalent, at that point I felt the pressure of her leg against my inner thigh. I exerted a light groan, her eyes bored into my grey ones, her arm slipping out from underneath the sheets to smooth my greying hair. 

"I want to eat you up like butterbeer" I whispered, burrowing my head into the curve of her neck, there was a slight giggle of excitement and things proceeded.

I know that was the last time, I didn't know it at the time but in these hours I'm missing her, though the solace of Severus, Dumbledore and even Harry is enough to make me momentarily forget, but I can't forget about the son, the son I would surely never see while he's in the protection of his grandparents. They distrust me, almost detest me. They hate me enough to deprive themselves of their daughter. To them family always came before love, but for her love came before family. Though it may sound selfish. God how I miss her whispering those prayers. 

I can't describe the pain, feeling as if my heart was wrenched out of my rib cage for all to see, but I must remain presentable and proper. No student wishes to see a professor crying...


End file.
